You're Shot, not Prosecuting!
by Write-To-You
Summary: My take on the mentioned scene of when Franziska got shot before Engard's first trial, and Miles had to drag her to the hospital kicking and screaming. (if you have a better title, let me know, because this one sucks :D)
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This was napoleon32's prompt for me:** ** _I've always been interested in each writer's interpretation of the day Shelly De Killer shot Franziska, especially since Miles was the one that found her and dragged her to the hospital kicking and screaming._**

 **Thank you for the prompt! You guys can request some stories too down in the comments. I'm taking prompts for Franziska/Miles and Phoenix/Maya.**

 **Also: If anyone could let me know a ship name for these couples, it would be greatly appreciated :D**

Miles Edgeworth frowned as he stepped out of his taxi and stared up the foreboding double staircase of the courthouse. There were two figures, at the bottom of the second set of stairs. One of them was petite, her back as straight as a popsicle stick, short cropped, angled blue hair shining in the morning sunlight. The other was tall, hunched, and bulky, dressed in a police uniform.

Franziska Von Karma and Detective Gumshoe. Miles knew why they were there. It was the reason he was frowning as he stepped out of his car.

Because it should've been him who was prosecuting this case. It shouldn't have been Franziska. She was just doing to find some sort of mental rest for whatever-the-heck she had unrest about regarding Wright and his tendency to beat her at cases, despite all of her boasting of crushing him like a foolish ant.

Miles had requested the Engard specially, as soon as he knew that Wright was going to be the defense. But when he arrived at the prosecutors office, he found that it was already taken.

Miles crossed his arms, walking up the stairs without Franziska or Gumshoe seeing him. He was there simply to observe the case that morning; there to get the enjoyment of watching Wright make a fool of himself and the amusement of seeing Franziska being to get more and more ruffled as Wright began to turn the case on it's head, just like he always did.

He had just started toward the door when the sound of a gunshot split the quiet. Miles whipped around and dropped to a crouch with his hands over his head. Gumshoe had his gun out and was waving it from side to side, searching for the source of the noise.

And Franziska...

Miles watched her fall in slow motion, a red stain blooming across her shoulder as she bounced on the sidewalk. She was still for a moment, blood staining her skin and shirt and the ground beneath her while Miles struggled to get himself to snap out of his daze and _move_.

As soon as he had stumbled to his feet, she had too. Franziska jolted upward, gripping her shoulder, her face as white as a sheet of fresh snow.

Miles reached her, his heart hammering. "You're hurt." He said, reaching for her arm. "Let me look at it."

Franziska sent him a glare and shook him off. "Don't be ridiculous-"

"I heard the shot, and I see the blood, Franziska!" Miles yelled. "Now stop being stubborn and let me take a look at your shoulder!"

She glared at him even more fiercely, but only flinched a little bit when he peeled back the shoulder of her elaborate top.

"That's not good." Miles said gravely. He wasn't able to tell much because of the amount of blood covering her shoulder, but it definitely wasn't a graze. "I'm taking you to the hospital, right now."

Franziska let out an exasperated noise. "You will do no such thing. Miles Edgeworth!" She steamed, the spun to Gumshoe. "Scruffy! Get me bandages and a rubbing alcohol. And make it snappy. I need to be in that courtroom in less then an hour and I still need to prep my first witness."

"Franziska, you just got shot!" Miles protested. "You can't possibly-"

"What are you waiting for?!" Franziska cried, waving Gumshoe away. "Do I pay you to stand and gape at me like a fish?"

"Well, you, uh, you don't actually pay me-" Gumshoe started, but Franziska let out a growl and he high-tailed it up the stairs and into the courtroom.

Seeming to think that problem resolved, Franziska turned to follow him. Miles reached out and grabbed her good arm. "Where do you think you're going?"

"To follow my detective, obviously. I'm not going to stitch myself back up in the middle of the sidewalk." Franziska huffed.

"You're not-" Miles let out a frustrated growl, then took a firmer grasp on Franziska's arm. "Come on." He ordered, tugging her down the top of the first staircase. "We are going to the hospital, _right now_."

"Foolishly foolish fool!" Franziska growled, reaching for her whip.

The second she moved her bad arm she let out a pained gasp. What little color had been in her cheeks drained completely and she swayed.

For a second, Miles thought she was going to pass out. He grabbed her around the waist, struggling to keep her upright.

Then Franziska took a long, deep breath and her back straightened again. She pushed against Miles' chest, getting him off of her and stood steadily by herself.

"You were saying?" She grit out with as much dignity as she could muster.

"I was saying that you need to get to a hospital." Miles repeated. He stepped foreword, cupping her jaw in his hands and forcing her to look him in the eye. He struggled for a moment, forcing his thumbs not to move. He didn't think Franziska would particularly care for him stroking her face like they were some sort of couple. Which they weren't.

"Franziska, you just got shot in the shoulder." Miles said, as gently as he could. "You're loosing blood and you look like you're going to pass out. Sometimes you just need to take a break, okay? I will cover the trial. I will make sure that we win. What I need you to do is let me take you to the hospital so we can find someone who can help you."

Unable to help himself, Miles brushed her hair out of her face. Her cheek felt cold, and it alarmed him. If she didn't agree to go with him he was going to have to use more... forceful measures.

For a moment, Miles thought he had convinced her. Franziska's shoulders slumped a little and her mouth opened, then closed.

Then she once again took a deep breath and straightened. "Foolish fool. I can handle this case- _What are you doing?! PUT ME DOWN!_ "

Miles, having had enough, had scooped her up and was carrying her down the stairs, bridal style. Franziska let out a very undignified shriek and began to hit his chest awkwardly with her good arm. "Let go of me you- you- you-"

"Stop." Miles ordered. "People are staring and if you don't shut up I'm going to be accused for kidnapping you."

He quickly hailed a taxi, driving by a man who looked very alarmed- whether by the sight of the two of them or the amount of blood now soaked into Franziska's shirt.

"Hotti Clinic." Miles ordered as soon as he had shoved Franziska forcefully into the car. " _Now_."

"Shouldn't you call an ambu-"

" _NOW_!" Miles bellowed.

The driver hurriedly complied and pressed his foot to the gas pedal, sending the car foreword with a jolt.

While the car sped down the street, Miles kept a careful eye on Franziska. The adrenaline seemed to have worn off, and she had her head back against the seat, her eyes squeezed together almost as tightly as her fists.

The driving took a quick corner and caught her unawares. Franziska slid into the wall of the car, her shoulder banging against the side. She let out a small cry of pain and Miles could see tears sparkling in her eyes. It was the first real sign of any sort of weakness he had seen on Franziska in just about ever.

Miles reached over and undid her buckle, sliding her over so that she was sitting in the middle of the car. He redid her seat belt and slid his arm around her waist, keeping her completely wedged between him and his arm.

Franziska shut her eyes and let out a soft whimper. "We're almost there." Miles told her quietly. "Just a few more minutes. Hang in there, 'Ziska."

"You haven't called me that since I was 9." Franziska huffed.

"Well, you slapped me the last time I did, so I decided it wasn't worth the pain." Miles said teasingly. "Especially now that you have a whip."

Franziska cracked a smile. "That's admittedly fair."

"Uh, we're here." The driver said, wheeling his car expertly into the line of drop offs at the clinic's entrance.

Miles immediately pulled off his and Franziska's seat belts off. Franziska stumbled getting out of the car, her legs trembling badly. He grasped her around the waist, feeling her pulse flutter underneath his fingers as he began to lead her into the clinic foyer.

"Excuse me sir, you still need to pay me-" The driver called from his taxi, but Miles ignored him and shoved open the door with his free arm.

"I need a doctor over here, right now!" Miles yelled.

"Using you're court voice now, are we?" Franziska mumbled in his shirt, leaning heavily on him as they stood awkwardly in the middle of the room.

Everyone inside was staring at them, but whatever doctor was rushing down the hallway was taking too long.

Miles picked Franziska back up, causing her to growl softly at him and shoot him a feeble glare, and began to stride down the hallway. "She was shot." He informed the doctor who met him halfway. "Franziska Von Karma, age 18. You can file all the medical bills under Miles Edgeworth."

"What are you doing, Miles?" Franziska demanded as she was loaded onto a stretcher. Her hands shook and her eyelids were beginning to flutter again, but she fought to keep consciousness.

"You haven't gotten your insurance set up yet." Miles said. It was really an excuse, but she didn't need to know that. Miles mostly just liked the feeling of being able to take care of her. "You're medical bills are going to be through the roof. Let me handle it, alright?"

Franziska mumbled something unintelligible, and the doctor gave him a quick smile before wheeling her away. "She's going to be just fine, Mr. Edgeworth." He assured him over his shoulder. "Thank you for bringing her in."

Miles shook his head. "It was more work then you might have expected." He muttered, turning away to start back down the hall.

Franziska's blood was covering him. Miles needed to change and get back to the courthouse.

He had a trail to win.

 **Author's Note: THERE WE GO!**

 **Okay, so I really really really want to do a second chapter, one that takes place after Maya, Phoenix and Miles all go to visit Franziska at Hotti Clinic. I don't know when I'm going to get to that, but stay tuned for more!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Of course I decided to do a chapter 2. We'll see how this goes. My chapters 2's have been known to be iffy at best XD XD XD**

After Pearl and Phoenix left Hotti Clinic, and Franziska was dragged away by a patient, but exasperated, nurse, Miles was left alone in the hospital foray with his thoughts.

Phoenix had brought Franziska flowers. It was a move that any courteous gentleman would make, even for someone that didn't treat them very well. Miles had somehow forgotten that rule. He had arrived empty handed and with the news that the trial hadn't been one in a single day.

Franziska seemed rather livid at him. She had barely spared him a second glance as she tossed Phoenix's flowers back at his chest and the nurse dragged her off. Miles wondered if that meant he wasn't supposed to go into her room... or talk to her... or check up on her...

Why did Franziska Von Karma go and have to be so confusing?

Miles stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking down at the floor as he considered what to do. His eyes caught a few stray petals, dropped by the abused flowers. It gave him an idea, and he turned and walked out of the hospital.

23 minutes later, Miles was standing nervously outside of Franziska's room, holding a small box and trying to peer through the small window without anyone noticing him.

Franziska saw him, and raised her eyebrow. She was propped up on her hospital bed with a few pillows, reading a book. Her shoulder was in a sling to keep it from moving too much, but Miles wouldn't be surprised if said sling would be off in a few days, instead of a few weeks like recommended. This _was_ Franziska.

Franziska said something, but he couldn't hear her though the wall of her hospital room, so he awkwardly slid away from the window and opened up the door.

"Took you long enough." Franziska said evenly, barely glancing up from her book. "I would have expected you to be following me around like an over eager puppy."

Miles frowned. "I, uh, had to get you something."

"You didn't _have_ to get me anything." Franziska countered. "If you got me something, it's because _you_ wanted to. Not me."

"Okaaaay..." Miles muttered. "Do you want it or not?"

Franziska huffed, and set her book down. "Must you always interrupt things when they are getting to the best part?" She said. "Fine. You've gone and bought it now, so I might as well take a look."

Miles handed her the box he was holding. "It took me a bit to find a bakery that sold these things. It's Franzbröchen. I know you used to love them when we were in Germany."

Franziska peeked into the box, and her eyes widened a little. She reached inside and picked up the pastry, the sweet scent of sugar and cinnamon filling her nostrils.

"I- Thank you, Miles." Franziska said softly. "I haven't had one of these in a long time."

She bit into the Franzbröchen, closing her eyes and smiling. "Mmmm..." Then she opened one eye and gave Miles a slightly bigger smile. "Do you... do you want a bite?"

Miles' eyebrows went up. "Uh, no, no, it's for you-"

"Have some, Miles." Franziska ordered, rolling her eyes and pulling off a large piece.

Miles leaned over and took it, and just kind of stood there, holding the pastry. Franziska scooted over and raised her eyebrow. Miles sat down obediently.

"There we go." Franziska huffed. "Now I can enjoy my Franzbröchen without worrying about seeming rude."

Miles laughed. "You? Worried about seeming rude? Do you _ever_?"

He stopped laughing abruptly as Franziska sent him the dirtiest look he had probably ever seen. "Uh... sorry."

She cracked a smile. "It is, unfortunately, true."

Miles smiled, took a bite of the Franzbröchen, and nodded. "They did the Franzbröchen honor with this recreation."

Franziska raised her eyebrow. "Was it not possible for you to simply say "it's good?" "

Miles didn't answer with much more then a grunt, and they fell into a Franzbröchen-eating silence.

"I'm glad you're okay, by the way." Miles said, a little gruffly, after awhile.

"Hmph." Franziska muttered. "Would you look at that; Miles Edgeworth _can_ worry."

Miles chuckled, placing his arm around her shoulders and pressing his lips to her temple.

"When it comes to you I can."

 **Author's Note: And... this is why I don't do chapter 2s. THIS TOOK WAAAAAY too long to get out- I apologize profusely :|**


End file.
